


They Had A One Bedroom Apartment

by tonystarkswallet



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Porn, Artist Steve Rogers, Awesome Sarah Rogers, Bottom Steve Rogers, Depressed Steve Rogers, Depression, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hospitalization, Hurt Steve Rogers, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Memories, Mental Health Issues, Mental Health Taboo, Mild Smut, Multi, Non-Graphic Smut, Other, Post-Avengers (2012), Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Serum, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Recovered Memories, Self-Harm, Smut, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Taboo, Top Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-18 13:09:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21761398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonystarkswallet/pseuds/tonystarkswallet
Summary: Steve is released from the hospital after his failed suicide attempt. The Avengers are determined to help out their teammate, but with Steve still believing the talk of mental health is taboo, they aren't left with many choices.Bruce and Tony manage to extract a copy of Steve's memories from his brain, in order to find out why their beloved soldier was hanging off the edge of sanity.
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Clint Barton & Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark & Thor, Bruce Banner & Steve Rogers, Clint Barton & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Joseph Rogers & Steve Rogers, Joseph Rogers/Sarah Rogers, Peggy Carter & Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter & Steve Rogers & Howard Stark, Sarah Rogers & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Avengers Team, Steve Rogers & Howard Stark, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Thor, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark
Comments: 13
Kudos: 181





	They Had A One Bedroom Apartment

Steve opened his eyes, but immediately screwed them back shut. He let out a soft grunt, hands weakly clenching into fists. 

The blinding lights above his head burned his eyes, but he tried again and opened them. Steve blinked a couple more times, trying to get his eyes adjusted.

"Well, looks like _Sleeping Beauty_ finally woke up," a male voice said in a rather teasing tone. But it wasn't malicious. 

"Stark," Natasha warned.

Steve turned his head so his face wasn't pointed at the ceiling anymore, eyes landing on Tony and Nat, who were standing a couple feet from the soldier. He now realized he was sitting up in a hospital bed, with a thin wool blanket pulled up to his stomach.

"Um," the redhead began. Steve's never seen her speechless or hesitant on her words before, so her new demeanor made him worried. "Do you remember what happened?" she asked. She seemed cautious.

Steve's brows furrowed and he tried his best to concentrate, but his brain was working slower than usual. He decided to just go through everything that happened prior to him losing consciousness.

He ate dinner in his bedroom at six, alone. 

Steve later sketched in his book for a few hours, but his wrist began to choke up once he began outlining his old apartment building; the apartment building he lived in with Bucky, in the 1940s. 

He was overwhelmed with memories and emotions so he took a shower to try and clear his head. 

Then he picked up one of his razor blades from impulse and soon enough, bloody water was washing down the drain. 

Steve’s expression must’ve changed because Natasha was frowning softly. “Yeah,” she mumbled carefully. 

“Jarvis said he wasn’t allowed to tell us what you were doing, under your order, so we got kinda worried,” Tony explained. 

_God, they must’ve found me like that,_ Steve thinks to himself, his jaw clenching as his teeth began to grind together. 

“Are you thirsty?” The redhead questioned. 

“No,” Steve immediately grunted out. 

“Hungry?” she asked. 

“No,” he huffed, “thank you,” he added.

“Do you need anything?” 

“I want my telephone,” Steve replied, his eyes trained on one corner of the room. 

“You can just say phone . But okay, _old man_ ,” Tony replied. He pulled out a slick StarkPhone from his pocket before holding it out to Steve. 

The case was designed from a page in a Captain America comic book. It was him and Bucky. The suits weren’t accurate to real life— especially Bucky’s— because Bucky’s never worn a mask or tight material. But Steve still liked it. 

* * *

Steve was released from the hospital four days later. Thanks to the super soldier serum, it didn’t take long for his arms to heal. After a few sessions with a psychologist, he was cleared. 

But the rest of the team knew this wasn’t something to brush off, and Steve wasn’t okay. He just told the doctors what they wanted to hear so he could leave the hospital as soon as possible and return to the tower. 

“I think we should get a therapist he should see,” Bruce said.

They were sat around in the common living room, now less tense since Jarvis recently told them Steve was passed out in his bed. He hasn’t left his bedroom since he returned from the hospital two hours ago. 

“He wouldn’t open up to them,” Natasha replied. 

Bruce looked like he wanted to try and convince her otherwise for Steve’s sake, but he knew she was right.

“Then what do we do?” Clint asked. “He’s just gonna’ try and do it again if we don’t help.”

* * *

So they tried their best to help. They prepared and cooked more of Steve's favourite foods, bought him some more 40s records and fancy pencils, and involved him in activities they thought he'd like.

Steve thanked them for each item and seemed to appreciate their gifts and how much they cared. But he always denied their offers to go anywhere.

They didn't immediately panic, though. They gave Steve two weeks, hoping he'd get back on his feet eventually with enough affection. 

But he didn't get better; in fact, he got worse. His team didn't know how to handle him and he refused to see any therapists or tell one of The Avenger's what's wrong. 

He was getting hurt during missions more often. Steve was either intentionally getting himself hurt, or he was too distracted to fight properly, so Tony wouldn't let him go on them anymore. 

The soldier didn't even seem to care; that was the last red flag for Tony. 

* * *

"Is this even going to work?" Clint asked.

The team was in Tony's living room, sat around on the love seats and seats. Steve was laid on his back on the sole couch, unconscious. 

"Not sure," Tony replied. "I hope it does." He was on the floor on his knees, next to the couch and carefully placing electrode pads on Steve's temples and forehead. 

Then a black head cap was put on Steve, it having a chin strap to keep in place. It was similarity shaped to his Captain America helmet, minus the eye area. It had an electrode system running through it; cords were along the top, attached to several circles with dials. 

"Did Nat really need to knock him out?" asked the archer. 

"He'll be okay," Bruce assured, "No long-term damage."

"He wouldn't have agreed to this. Besides, we don't know if he'd get distressed if we did this if he was awake," the billionaire added. 

The cords from the electrode pads and head cap were attached to one large cord, and Tony plugged that into his flat screen TV before asking Jarvis to power-up the devices scattered along Steve's head. 

"System is ready," Jarvis said.

Tony looked around at his team, taking in a steady breath. "Where should we begin?"

"The beginning," Nat said.

"Alright, Jarv. Start 'er up," Tony commanded. 

The TV flickered to life, all eyes turning to it. They waited, Tony about ready to call it quits, before grass could be seen through blurry vision and soft sniffling filled the speakers. 

The angle was soon pointed downward, and the team realized it worked. They had the visuals of Steve's POV, as if he had cameras in his eyes. Although they didn't know when this was, and Steve was much, much smaller. 

The visuals and audio weren't perfect. The scene ahead of them cut, paused, or buffered, since memories aren't very accurate. 

* * *

_"Hey, are you okay?"_

_Steve quickly looked up to see a short-haired brunet boy staring down at him._

_The boy crouched in front of him before looking down at Steve's bloody and dirty knees._

_"I'm James," the boy said. "Here, I can help you back into the school. Mrs. Fullerton can help; she's my teacher."_

* * *

_"Steven, what happened to your legs?"_

_His mother rushed over to him before quickly getting to her knees, pulling him into a hug._

_"I fell playin'," Steve's tiny voice replied. They were at the inside of an apartment; the paint was peeling from the walls, the wooden floors had both large and small scratches, and the curtains were torn._

_His dad was standing on the other side of the room, arms crossed. "You were cryin', boy?" he asked._

_His mom pulled away, to carefully rub her thumb along her son's cheek. "Joseph, not now, please."_

_"Look at 'is face, Sarah; he's been cryin'. What've I told you 'bout cryin'?"_

_Steve just stared._

_"No girl's gonna' like a boy who cries."_

* * *

_"Do you hear what you're sayin' to me? Trying to break my heart?!" his father screamed._

_Steve was hidden under a dinner table, keeping his hands over his ears, the yelling muffled._

_"Making my boy think I'm some kind of laggard?! How dare you compare me to that man!"_

* * *

_Steve ran around the corner of a building, panting as he came to a stop._

_"He went this way!"_

_His lungs felt like they were collapsing, his chest clenching, left taking in quiet wheezes as an asthma attack approached._

_Two kids rounded the corner, the boys looking a few inches taller than Steve, and they certainty didn't look skinny._

_"Hey, leave him alone!" called out the boy from earlier. He ran over, stepping between Steve and the other boys._

_"Whatever. C'mon, Will," one boy said. He turned away and the other followed._

_Steve quickly began to calm down, making eye contact with the boy who stood up from him._

_"Um, thanks," Steve forced out, catching his breath._

_"You don't need to thank me. They were being mean."_

_"Your, uh, name is James, right?"_

_"Yup!" the boy replied. "James Buchanan Barnes," he said before holding out your hand._

_Steve smiled softly before shaking his hand. "Steve," he said. "Well, Steven. But I like Steve," he explained. "Steven Grant Rogers._

_"Nice to meet you, Steve. Well, again. We already kinda' met," James laughed softly._

* * *

_Steve was staring down at one of his books, eyes carefully running over the lines._

_"Did you ask her on a date?"_

_Steve looked up to see James sat across from him. "No."_

_Both of their voices were deeper and James now looked around fourteen or fifteen._

_"What? Why?" James asked._

_Steve huffed a small,"She's going to say no."_

_"You don't know that."_

_Steve looked back down at his book. "No girl's gonna' want a boy like me, Buck. You know that."_

* * *

_"I'm scared," Steve croaked._

_His vision was blurry with tears again. He was sat on a couch, which was stained with various colours and shades of paint._

_"Steve, it can't be that bad. I'm not going to hate you; you're my best friend," Bucky said._

_Steve sheepishly glanced over at James, who was sat at the blond's right. "Yes you will."_

_"I promise, I won't."_

_"You can't tell nobody."_

_"Okay, I won't. I promise."_

_Steve looked away from Bucky, down at his lap._

_"Steve," Bucky said. "I promise I won't tell nobody," he repeated. "You can tell me."_

_"I-I don't...like girls," Steve whispered, his eyes staying pointed downward._

* * *

_Bucky was laid on a bed, naked and staring up at Steve, who was lightly jerking up and down._

_The pair’s breathy moans filled the rooms, Steve’s eyes having a hard time focusing on anything other than Bucky’s face and abs._

_“Jesus, Stevie. You look so pretty on my cock.”_

* * *

_"We should have a song," James said._

_Steve looked up from the dinner he's been poking at with a fork, making eye contact with the brunet. "What?"_

_"We should have a song," Bucky repeated. "Y'know when couples say, "That's our song!" or, "We should play our song.""_

_"Right," Steve said, gently cocking his head to the side. "How do we pick a song?"_

_Bucky shrugged, smiling before he stood up from the table. "Hold on," he said before wandering off to their hallway, then their bedroom._

_He returned after thirty-or-so seconds, walking over to their record player with a red record in one hand. He carefully put it in the machine, and then put the needle down._

_Soft music was quick to fill the room before Steve stood up and walked over to the brunet. "What's this one?" he asked._

_"We haven't heard it yet. It's "I'm In The Market For You" by Van Phillips," Bucky replied._

_Steve's brow raised as he glanced up at Bucky, smirking. "I'm starting to think you like him more than me," he teased playfully._

_"Yeah, maybe," Bucky said back, holding back his own coy smile. "C'mere."_

_He wrapped one arm around Steve, before pulling him against his chest and taking one of his hands in his own._

_"I'm no good at dancin', Buck," Steve warned. "You know that," he added._

_"Yeah, I know. But it's adorable to watch."_

* * *

_Steve was sat on the living room floor, legs crossed underneath of himself. A canvas was rested on his legs, his hand delicately running the brush over it. Birch trees blended into an oak forest, a lone deer standing next to a patch of yellow wild flowers._

_"If we were te' 'ave a baby-" Bucky's voice began._

_"-We can't have no baby, Buck," Steve replied._

_"I know. But if we did," he clarified, "then what would we name it? What would it look like?"_

_Steve looked up from his painting, soon setting it down and getting up from the floor. Bucky was on the couch, and Steve walked over to sit with him. The brunet was quick to pull the blond into his lap, wrapping his arms around his Steve._

_"I dunno. Maybe Sarah for a girl, after mom," Steve replied. "Why?" he asked._

_Bucky shrugged, staring at Steve's face with a soft, content smiling. "Just thinkin' 'bout it."_

_They sat there for a bit, enjoying each other's presence. But then Bucky spoke up again, "Do ya' think the baby would have your hair?"_

_"Buck," Steve chuckled. "We can't have a baby."_

_"I know, I know," Bucky replied. "But I like talkin' about it. I like pretending."_

_Steve nodded. "Okay, um..." he mumbled. "We'd name her Sarah, after my mom. Then her middle name would be Rebecca, after your sister," the blond explained, Bucky's head slightly tilting to the side and Steve could tell he was enjoying this._

_"Her last name Barnes. Because imma' take your last name too," Steve continued._

_Bucky's smile quickly broadened, his eyes widening with excitement. "Are ya' now?" he asked playfully._

_"Yup. And she's gonna have my hair. But she's gonna' be strong, like you, and tough. But she'll be nice-"_

_"-Like you," Bucky cut him off._

_Steve kissed his forehead, the couple sharing an intimate glance. "And you."_

_"What else?" Bucky asked._

_"Um..." Steve muttered. "She'll have your eyes and tan skin. And everyone'll love 'er."_

_"She sounds perfect," Bucky whispered blissfully._

* * *

_"Wh-What?" Steve stuttered. "We can't afford th-that."_

_Bucky was on one knee in front of him, holding a silver ring with a small diamond towards Steve. They were in their kitchen, the lights dimmed. "Don't worry 'bout that, baby."_

_"Bu-Bucky don't be playing no tricks, this ain't funny," Steve whimpered._

_Bucky smiled, staring up at him. "I'm being serious, Stevie. So, um..." he trailed off for a moment._

_"Buck," Steve breathed out_

_"W-Will ya' marry me, baby?" Bucky whispered._

_Steve pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, quickly nodding his head as tears slipped from his baby blues._

_Bucky grinned, holding back his own tears as he slipped the ring onto Steve's tiny finger._

* * *

_“Stevie, I need you to promise me something, okay?”_

_The room was dark, but city lights shone in from the slightly parted blinds at the window._

_Steve turned over in bed, eyes now locking on the man next to him. "Okay," he replied._

_"You gotta' move on, okay? If something happens," Bucky said._

_"But you're gonna' be okay," Steve quickly replied._

_Bucky chewed anxiously at his bottom lip before saying, "We don't know that, baby. I'm going to be careful. So, so careful, I promise. But if-"_

_"-I wish you didn't need to go," Steve whispered, his vision going cloudy with tears._

_"I know, baby. I know," Bucky replied, his jaw clenching as tears also pooled in his eyes._

_"But if I don't make it back-" the brunet began, pushing through his emotions._

_"-You're going to make it back," Steve whimpered._

_"You gotta' move on, okay? You need to be happy."_

_"N-No, Bucky. I can't be happy without you. I don't want nobody else," the blond ushered out._

_Bucky's chin began to tremble, his brows furrowing as he held back tears. "I don't want nobody else either, baby," he said. "But if I don't come back home, you gotta be happy. Please, Stevie."_

_"And..." Bucky glanced away, as he took a deep breath. "...we gotta' keep it together tomorrow. You can't be cryin' when I go off to war, or else somebody will know, and we'll get in lots of trouble," he whispered._

_He reached up to gently rub his thumb along Steve's cheek, looking back up to stare into Steve's eyes. "And, um, I won't be here no more to..." he paused, "...t-to protect ya' from fights, doll. So you gotta be good wh-when I'm off to war."_

_And that's when Steve broke, the blond slipping into sobs as Bucky just pulled him closer._

* * *

_Steve was taller now; much taller. Howard Stark was organizing his blue prints at one of the tables, working on Steve's shield. Peggy was talking to the soldier, but Steve didn't closely pay attention to her since his ears were still ringing._

_Other people were walking around, moving materials and filing paperwork. Peggy recently fired a handgun in Steve's direction, but luckily the bullets hit the shield._

* * *

_"Grab my hand!"_

_One of Steve's arms were held out, watching as his soulmate clung to the train, which screeched against the tracks._

_Bucky reached one arm out, but the bar snapped, and the brunet's fingers slipped from Steve's hands._

_He stared, eyes widened as he watched Bucky fall down the ravine, towards the snow-covered sharp rocks._

_Once Bucky fell out of view, Steve turned to the train. He pressed his face to the cold metal, vision going blurry with ears before he shut his eyes._

* * *

_The plane was pointed downwards, at the Arctic Sea beneath them. Peggy's voice was comforting and calm, but her sadness was noticeable._

_Steve gripped the control wheel, staring ahead, breath quickened as he neared the icy water, awaiting his death._

* * *

_"We thought it best to break it to you slowly."_

_The man had an eye patch, and wore a long black trench coat. He was black and bald, several black SUVs surrounding the pair._

_"Break what?" Steve demanded._

_"You've been asleep, Cap," the man said. "For almost seventy years."_

* * *

_Steve was stood in front of the Bucky Barnes Memorial. Bucky's picture made him look as handsome as ever. The blond stared at it for a few minutes, and then his eyes moved over to the couple paragraphs written._

_It mentioned his and Bucky's relationship, but it was nowhere near accurate._

* * *

_Steve sat in a church, staring ahead, his vision blurry again. Footsteps approached after a little while, and Steve turned his head to see a priest. He looked no more than sixty, the top of his head balding with wrinkles sketching his face._

_"Captain America," she said, a sweet smile lining his thin lips._

_"Father," he replied._

_The man sat next to him, before inhaling a deep breath. He stared ahead, but Steve didn't look away from him._

_"It's strange to know you're older than me," the priest said. He looked back at Steve, still smiling as the pair made eye contact._

_"Yeah, it's really weird," Steve replied._

_The man seemed to be studying Steve's facial expression, head soon cocking to the side. "What is bothering you, my child?" he asked._

_"It's just..." Steve took a deep breath, glancing away before looking back to the man. "It's hard," he breathed out. "My friends are gone. My world is gone. The person I loved is gone. It's been seventy years, but...it hasn't been that long for me. It's like I just took a nap, and now I'm in 2012."_

_The priest frowned softly, nodding. "I don't understand how you feel, and I'm very sorry for what you've been through. But God is extremely thankful for you- I can feel he is."_

_"Thank you," Steve whispered, the man smiling again._

_"You've done so good. But now it's time for you to get happy. And I'm sure your woman was very proud of you," he said._

_"Thank you," Steve repeated. He didn't dare correct him, not wanting him to know that Peggy wasn't the person he was referring to._

_"Take care of yourself, Child. And, please, come here whenever you need to," the priest said before standing up and walking away._

* * *

The Avengers stared at the TV, which soon powered down once the last scene was played out. They were, well, stunned; shocked. 

They assumed he was upset over Peggy, even though they didn't know each other for long. But there was so much more to it. 

"Holy shit," Clint finally said, breaking the minute-long silence.

"That man- Bucky. Was he the captain's lover?" Thor asked.

"I...I guess?" Clint replied.

Tony silently stood up, almost acting as a robot as he walked over to Steve. He pulled off the head cap and electrode pads from the still unconscious soldier. 

"Now what?" Clint asked, glancing around at the rest of the team. 

Bruce was quick to speak up, "Let's put him in bed before he wakes up. We can, um, come up with a plan later."


End file.
